As a child, whenever I felt over-controlled and bound by the generic social rules and restrictions of my family, I always thought my real journey as a decision making individual would probably begin after I have had lost one of my parents, or in middle school when I was in my early teenage years, I thought, again, that I would have my first girl friend after loosing my father, and other thoughts with a very similar context as these, in order to achieve something I wanted so badly, I assumed I would have sacrificed a very dear posession of mine in return. It is only after reading several dozens of spirituality and philosophical books, I realised life does not function like that. Perhaps it was primary education I had plus all the tv I watched which planted the seeds for those thoughts and ideas I had, that I believed there would always had to be an antagonist in the presence of a protagonist, a sacrifice for every desire, and a bad for every good, black and white with no grey areas. But it was not that simple, nor complex, when I lost my dear, loving father. It was just a simple night, the very last one which I could spend with him while I was still in my home country, about to go back to UK in a few days. He wanted me to sleep next to him, as he said he missed me when I was away, so I did. I woke up in the middle of the night, to realise that he was not sleeping that whole night, but watching me sleep, petting on my hair, and it was when I closed my eyes to go back to dreaming. Next morning I woke up, and wanted to bid him farewell before leaving because I would not see him again until the easter break, which was in 4 months time, when he told me that he had a very sad feeling that he would never see me again after this time, and that he might pass away, as he had this strong feeling that he was going to. I had a hard time not to cry and quickly left after giving him one last hug, when he came all the way to the door to see me leave, which he never would do in previous times when I was about to leave to go to UK for a long time. I looked back one last time to see him lean towards the open door and nod me goodbye, which was the last time my eyes had a glance at him. Now, I ask myself, is this really sad or does it only sound sad? Are things like that really sad, or is sadness a type of feeling planted in our memory by tv and media? I believe the second one, as I believe he is in a state now, much better than the rest of us, dwelling on earth, decieved by governments, control mechanisms, enslaved by modern business management tactics and stupified by our tv's. He is one with everything else, as I believe when you die the body shrinks and mind is all is left behind when it happens, and soul is not just one individual, but the whole universe as we comprehend it, and there his mind is, possibly with the loved ones for a while, and as it realises that time does not exist without the frame of an illusion of physical limitedness, then perhaps chooses to go back to non-existent form or merges with the rest of the universe.
I had my first girlfriend way before he passed away, and I started living as a decision making individual, as I understand it, years before too. Just a simple farewell, and the idea of knowing what is about the come, and all the spiritual terms and my ego nagging in a corner in my head, make me think, and thinking is the golden key to anything in this life, just think, do not decide, do not talk, do not act or mimic what you have been programmed to parrot for, just think. Even when you have lost a parent, or your job, or you are annoyed by a person on the street, do not act automatically, don't let your behaviour be guided by what you have deceivingly let into your memories. It is not, never natural to feel something just because you think it is right to feel a particular feeling in response to an action or event. It may sound very radical, but we are all not acting autonomously at all.
After I recieved the phonecall from my uncle, askign me to "get my jacket" and get on a plane, as we have lost my father, I just was shocked how accurate my father was, and how accurate my dream was which I dreamt a week ago, a technological looking leave of newspaper falling from the space on my laps and hearing the words "your father has died", and crying out loud, thinking why he is not calling so often these days, feeling disappointment as well as sorrow in a mixed soup of feelings, maybe because of a forevision, or maybe pshycological after effect of what he said before I left, but it all came to truth on that day when I slept only for a few hours.
Weird things kept happening as I went back and attended his funeral. It was that night when I saw him in my dream, giving me a black webcam and telling me he would not be needing this anymore so that I should have it. He used to do that very often, when he bought an electronic item, he would just give it to me and say that I should use it as he probably would not and that he only bought it out of a momentary excitement. Next morning, I was going to visit his house for one last time to look for some items to pick up, something to remind him to me, and to pick up all the remaining pictures and albums, which was left there as right after his pass away, my uncle went and collected all the valuables and electronics to keep them safe from theft, as they broke a window to come in when he did not answer their calls, to find him gone in his bed. I had this feeling that I did not see his old beta camera among the pile of belongings that my uncle fetched from his house, and that I was going to find it somewhere hidden as he told me in my dream the night before. I was looking through the cupboards, when I realised there was a sealed carton box, and when I ripped it open I found his camera, the only piece of valuable item left in his house, which they missed out when they cleared his home. I think it was this experience which soothed my pain and made it very bearable to cope with his loss, knowing that he still existed in one way or another and that he could even communicate.
I have been seeing him in my dreams for a lot of times since about last month, when I stopped seeing him for a reason I would love to know about. In some of those dreams he would simply come and have a good time with me, we would go out and have dinner and other things like that. And sometimes he would talk for a long time and tell me things that I would only remember a few words out of it in the next morning I wake up. One of the remarkable dreams I had, he was there with a pile of playing cards in his hand, and he would throw a card in front of me and say "remember this one well", which I would pck up to see a jack of spades, and than he repeated it for like 10 to 15 times and it was always a jack of spades, which made that dream a very trippy one but very vague to put in a meaningful context.
Maybe I should stop writing now and see what I have done with this blog, very first one I had in my life, and hope I did not offend or creep anyone out.
Stay sharp, and keep thinking. Namaste!
